


Love is a Gift, Never To Be Squandered

by WondrousWendy, Zath



Series: Lost and Found [2]
Category: Warcraft - All Media Types, World of Warcraft
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Coming Out, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, Genn Isn't A Terrible Father, Gratuitous Amount of Headcanons, He Just Has to Listen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Miscommunication, Mutual Pining, Pre-World of Warcraft: Battle for Azeroth, World of Warcraft: Legion
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-20
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:55:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25375021
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WondrousWendy/pseuds/WondrousWendy, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zath/pseuds/Zath
Summary: During the second war with the Burning Legion, Tess Greymane and Vanessa VanCleef discovered that they have a lot more in common than they first thought. As passions arise between them, the realities of their different stations begins to weigh down upon them. The road is hard and long; some secrets cannot remain hidden in the dark, left imprisoned in gilded cages. Sometimes, love is a gift and it cannot be squandered.
Relationships: Genn Greymane/Mia Greymane, Mathias Shaw & Vanessa VanCleef, Mathias Shaw/Edwin VanCleef, Tess Greymane & Anduin Wrynn, Tess Greymane/Vanessa VanCleef, Wrathion/Anduin Wrynn
Series: Lost and Found [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1839376
Comments: 9
Kudos: 28





	1. Addicted to You

**Author's Note:**

> This story is a sequel to [Show Me How It's Done](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20986058). You should read that for clarity, and if you enjoy VanTess content, please check it out! This story has a gratuitous amount of headcanons, especially with regard to Vanessa and her father's relationship with Mathias Shaw. This first chapter contains sexual content, as a heads up. 
> 
> The entire piece is complete, with chapters only needing some minor polishing, and will be posted regularly. We hope you're ready for a feels rollercoaster!

The funny thing about indulging in your passions, Tess Greymane learns, is that once you acknowledge certain truths, once you have let them come into the light, putting them all back into their gilded cage and pretending they are not there becomes increasingly difficult.

Tess Greymane, heir-apparent of the Kingdom of Gilneas, daughter of the White Wolf, is gay and sleeping with Vanessa VanCleef.

There’s no room for denial when Tess practically invites Vanessa into her office when she comes to her in the dead of night. Her office, which is really nothing more than a hole in the wall with rather modest accommodations, has become their refuge from the war with the Burning Legion and a safe haven for exploring new parts of herself. Thankfully, she has a wooden door for some semblance of privacy, not that Vanessa ever seems to use it properly, always skulking about. This is how they find themselves tonight, with Vanessa sprawled atop her desk, legs spread wide as she teaches Tess how to eat her out.

Everything changed after that first sordid evening in Dalaran’s underbelly when Vanessa approached her in the middle of the night. And it was the first of more to come—for someone who claimed to be heartless, cold, and cruel, who was quick to “love ‘em and leave ‘em,” Vanessa VanCleef comes to Tess every evening she can. Sometimes Tess can’t resist her during the day, not when Vanessa puts everything on display so readily. Tanned thighs, wandering eyes, and the glimpses of a curved rear barely hidden behind a crimson tabard...

Keeping secrets in a den of thieves and vagabonds is impossible. The men and women who comprise the Uncrowned can uncover schemes and plots with prime precision. So, it’s inevitable for gossip to run amuck—though it never rises to the surface to Dalaran proper (Tess doesn’t dare imagine what would happen if the truth got out about what she has become to the nobles of Stormwind, let alone her parents). The Uncrowned conducts business in dark, dank sewers with hidden corridors and secret nooks and crannies after all—everyone has a spot to get away to think or fuck in some form or another. There can be no room for denial about what Tess has become when the woman who made it all known makes a habit of reminding her with frequent visits.

If having a beautiful woman rut against your leather-clad thigh while you both kissed doesn’t make you the slightest bit gay, then enjoying the absolute delight between her thighs surely does. Tess loves the way Vanessa’s thighs frame her head, squeezing her, imprisoning her in place with a fist in her long black hair. The noises Vanessa makes are downright sinful, and Vanessa makes sure to tell her what she likes, doesn’t like, and what she demands more of. Tess has no idea how the flimsy tabard will hide the obvious lovebites blooming on her inner thighs; yet, a darker, more possessive part of herself she’s never really set free wants the whole of the Uncrowned to know that the Defias princess has been claimed. Tess has seen many men clamor all around Vanessa, hoping to have a go at her. A quick knife to the throat or a roundhouse kick to the chest has handled all of that in the past. Lingering traces of pink lipstick on those thighs will compound the truth further.

_Sorry, boys, she’s mine._

Vanessa arches her back and shudders all around Tess, her soft thighs shaking from the high. For all her snark and sarcasm, Vanessa becomes so much more obedient when she wants to come. In the afterglow, Vanessa grows soft and sweet, stroking Tess’s hair and thanking her with no gusto or bravado, only pure adoration and appreciation.

An all-too polite cough draws Tess’s attention away from Vanessa, who tilts her head and looks at the intruder upside down.

“Pardon me, Lady Greymane,” the man says with a thick Westfall accent. He’s dressed in SI:7 leathers and has a dark red bandana hanging loose around his neck. “I uh... I‘ve got urgent news about the information you requested earlier. About the blood trail. Lord Ravenholdt requested your presence, but since you’ve been... indisposed, I’ve been stallin’ till ya’ll were done—y’see you left your door unlocked—and I’m mighty sorry about interruptin’ you both, but I’m afraid he’s gonna burst past me if I wait any longer and, uh...”

Tess has never felt so embarrassed. She stares at the Shadowblade, speechless, her face burning bright. She could have sworn she locked the door, she absolutely, definitely checked before even beginning this completely irresponsible dalliance... But when you’re distracted by someone as tantalizing as Vanessa... well, things can be forgotten.

Vanessa just starts laughing, impishly. She sits up and fixes herself back into proper order. Perched atop Tess’s desk, she leans close and gives Tess a quick kiss on the cheek, leaving behind her own imprinted crimson lipstick stain.

“Wouldn’t want to keep Lord Ravenholdt waiting any longer, do we, princess?”

Tess glares and fishes into her pocket for her handkerchief. She wipes her mouth, rubs away the rouge smudge, and bows her head in embarrassment. She walks over to the Shadowblade and apologizes quietly for making him stall.

“Please, Lady Greymane, I completely understand.”

“May I implore you to keep this private?” She asks, leaning close as they head out of her office.

He smiles, and it’s the kind of smile that fills her with a deep sense of trust. “Your secret is safe with me, ma’am.”

Tess sighs and looks over her shoulder to see Vanessa still on her desk, running a hand through her short hair, smoothing the messy strands. Vanessa gives her a wink and a grin that feel so absolutely disarming that it makes her heart stutter.

What is it about people from Westfall that makes them so charming?


	2. A Good Thing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After returning from a tiring mission on the Broken Shore, Vanessa VanCleef has something special she wants Tess to have.

Despite what others might say about Vanessa, the woman is truly, deep down, a complete softie. She may be quick to anger and one to hold a grudge, but on certain matters, there’s an undeniable sense that Vanessa only wants to see others happy and thriving.

It’s because of this hidden kindness that Tess learns that she has fallen in love with Vanessa.

The battle against the Legion takes the Uncrowned to the Broken Shore, where the thieves, swashbucklers, and spies aid members of other organizations with missions and tasks. Vanessa often travels with the Shadowblade and his cohort of SI:7 spies, despite her claims that she automatically hates anyone affiliated with Stormwind (the Shadowblade being a begrudging exception, given his history as a former Defias himself in his youth). Vanessa handles every mission with a certain finesse—through sheer force of will to prove she isn’t a woman to be underestimated. Tess knows there’s something about the thrill of a good melee scrap that makes every nerve in Vanessa’s body inflamed.

It’s good to see Vanessa getting along better with others; Tess, however, prefers shadows and subterfuge.

After returning from one of her missions with the Shadowblade, Vanessa pulls Tess aside to a quieter corner of Deliverance Point to talk.

Tess expects it’s because Vanessa wants to ride out the last remains of her adrenaline after a job well done, but as they find a place to sit and talk away from prying eyes, Tess realizes she misread Vanessa. There’s something off about her—she comes across as even more broody than usual, bothered by something she seems hesitant to talk about.

Tess tries to make her mother proud. Mia Greymane is well known for her patience and empathy, two traits Tess has struggled to emulate. She reaches out and covers one of Vanessa’s clenched hands with her own.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”

Vanessa grits her teeth and makes a defiant noise. She shakes her head and bluntly says, “I don’t know why I’m so tongue-tied over it. I really don’t even care much about it.”

Before Tess can ask for clarification, Vanessa reaches into one of her pockets on her utility belt and hands a small, cloth-wrapped item to her. She jerks her hand away after, as if she’s been burned.

“The Shadowblade and I found that washed up on the beach.”

Tess unfurls the carefully wrapped item to reveal a small golden pocket watch. It’s sea-soaked, so it no longer ticks, but the button to open it still works. The watch opens like a clam shell, and what Tess finds shocks her: an old, painted picture of Anduin Wrynn when he was a boy.

“The Shadowblade said it was King Wrynn’s.”

Of course. King Wrynn died on the Broken Shore. She remembers a time long ago when Anduin was missing in the mists of Pandaria how King Wrynn would take out the pocket watch often to stare down at the picture of his son during long meetings with her father. He was a father sick with worry, missing his lost son, and he couldn’t be parted from the memento. He loved Anduin so much.

“Vanessa...”

“Look I gave it to you because you know the kid, right? You guys are like royal pals? Well you can give it to him.”

Tess lifts her gaze away from the pocket watch and sees Vanessa looking away from her, towards the sea. Her entire body is rigid, tense like a taut bowstring, and her voice has grown shaky, like she’s trying not to cry.

“Just give it to him, alright? His father may have been a complete asshole but that isn’t...” Vanessa sighs loudly. “It isn’t the kid’s fault.”

Tess tucks the wrapped watch safely away in one of her pockets and then moves closer to Vanessa, enveloping her in her arms.

“Do you have any idea how much it will mean to him to have this back?”

Vanessa doesn’t say anything at first. She sits there, silent, shaking in Tess’s arms. Then, Tess hears it—the soft, guttural noise of a sob. Tess cups her cheek, turns her head, and Tess sees how much this has affected Vanessa.

“No one should lose their father,” Vanessa says softly, closing her eyes to brace against her own broken heart. “The Shadowblade told me how King Varian Wrynn died. _No one..._ Anduin shouldn’t have lost his father that way.”

Tess lets Vanessa cry against her shoulder. None of it is fair. Vanessa losing her father so young, Anduin losing his father right as they were beginning to get along in a better, healthier, happier way. Tess thinks of her own father and how much she loves him. They may not see eye to eye on some things, she may forever live in Liam’s shadow, but she knows her father loves her, too.

“You should be the one to give it to him.”

Vanessa hardens. She narrows her brows, scoffs, and gestures dismissively. “There’s no way in hell I would ever be allowed to get even an arm’s length towards him.”

“You’ve done a good thing, Vanessa—”

“Then just let it be that, alright? A good thing. Just leave it at that. You know him, you give it to him. Tell him you found it yourself for all I care.”

Tess can’t help but smile sadly. This is just who Vanessa is—a good person, deep down, not even needing credit for her deeds, even if she deserves it.

“For what it’s worth, sweetheart, I love you for it.”

Vanessa blinks and leans away in shock. She stares at Tess, perhaps hoping to spot a glimmer of falsehood, perhaps too uncertain to believe she even heard her right.

“I... I mean it, you know.”

“You don’t,” Vanessa tries to move out of her arms like some kind of scared animal, but Tess doesn’t let her go far. “You couldn’t possibly—”

Tess takes her face into her hands. “Vanessa VanCleef, I love you.”

Vanessa rubs at her eyes, sniffles, and lets out a hoarse laugh.

“You must be off your rocker, Tess, but... I guess I’m glad you are.”

Vanessa moves back into Tess’s embrace, burrowing her head into the crook of Tess’s neck. There, she admits her feelings, telling Tess she loves her too.

“What was that dear? You said you love me?” Tess smiles wryly. “Well isn’t that something rather adorable.”

“Shut up, princess.”

“I do think you should say it again and again, you big softie.”

Vanessa snorts, indignant, but the bold blush on her face says different. “I’m not afraid to punch you.”

“That wouldn’t be rather lovey dovey of you.”

“ _Stopppppp,_ ” Vanessa groans while weakly punching Tess in the shoulder. “Do not start with that.”

“Vanessa VanCleef, a secret hopeless romantic—I love it.”

“You damn well better keep it a secret or I’ll tell everyone you have a secret fetish for being tied up and in distress.”

Tess blushes and scratches the back of her neck. “Well, I am a princess after all!”


	3. Where Your Loyalties Lie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Vanessa finds herself confronted by two former members of the Defias Brotherhood while enjoying her lunch, bringing her newfound relationship with Tess into question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! We hope you enjoy the next chapter!

Vanessa’s life had been so simple before she met Tess Greymane. She once lived for a single purpose: to avenge her father who had been slain for wanting justice. Somewhere along the way that goal had quietly become less of a priority. Her thirst for vengeance would never truly abate, but it no longer consumed her every waking thought. 

At first she had wanted to merely get under Tess’s skin; to rile up Princess Greymane until she learned her place. The princess of the wolves should have had no standing in Dalaran’s Underbelly and certainly not among the Uncrowned. Yet, she sat among thieves, rogues, scoundrels and others far below her station and demanded to be heard. 

That fact used to anger Vanessa. She once wanted to see her sent packing back with her tail between her legs. She wanted to see a girl, who had such a perfect life, break down. Then, Vanessa wanted to be noticed by Tess. At the time, Vanessa wanted Tess to admit her mistake and realize she was in over her head among the Uncrowned. With bravado she had to have in order to survive, Vanessa puffed out her chest and made a move on Tess the evening after the Shadowblade’s induction. She intended to threaten Tess and scare her off, to see her run back to her father where she belonged.

Instead, what happened was something Vanessa couldn’t have planned or prepared for in a hundred years. She had made the princess cry, and it had made her, a VanCleef, feel like complete shit. 

Tess had done nothing towards her and the VanCleef family, and as royals of another kingdom, the Greymanes were not even in Stormwind when her father was killed. Tess was just a small girl, just as she had been when so much of their worlds had fallen apart at an early age. And despite their similarities, Vanessa acted as a bully, and she judged Tess on her Greymane name alone. 

One awkward apology and a risky bout of flirtation later, and suddenly the evening took a turn for the better. Even as unplanned as it was, Vanessa knew that she probably would never forget that night. It wasn’t as though she had never had sex before, but with Tess it felt different. New. Special, even.

And Light help her now that she knows just how Tess feels about her. Tess Greymane is in love with her. Her. A VanCleef. The Princess of Gilneas, daughter of King “Fucking Glare at Everything and Everyone” Greymane. His daughter is in love with the daughter of Edwin VanCleef, a hated vigilante and a terrorist, to some. 

And that’s why Vanessa keeps finding herself half-smiling underneath her mask as she sits down for lunch in the order hall. It’s so very unlike her, but Vanessa can’t stop replaying their various rendez-vous in her mind. When was the last time someone genuinely told her they loved her? Her Father? That was an entire lifetime ago. 

Tess makes her feel wanted and cared for, as sappy as that is. But it’s more than that. More than the Saldeans cared for their precious “Hope.” Tess cared about her as an individual person, didn’t hold her up to old ideals like the members of the Defias Brotherhood did, who saw her as a VanCleef in name and nothing else. Tess just didn’t compare her to anyone else in her life. 

Vanessa unties her mask and brings today’s slop to her mouth. Not as bad as yesterday. Movement across the hall draws her attention. She watches as two men make their way toward her, striding with purpose. Tony and Roddrick. Defias Brotherhood in name only; they didn’t actually believe in what she nor her father stood for. They had been rather boastful back in Westfall about how they had been original members of the Brotherhood under Edwin, as if that fact earned some sort of status within the company of rogues. Of course Vanessa knew her father wouldn’t have worked with men who couldn’t keep their mouth shut to save their lives. 

And just like that, her meal is ruined when the two men sit down across from her. 

“So, you’ve been keeping some rather fancy company as of late, VanCleef,” Tony starts.

Vanessa doesn’t hesitate as she takes another bite of her food.

“Sure looks like your loyalty has shifted once you started sniffing around that princess.” Roddrick lays his chin in his hands and smirks coldly. “She must have a lot of bark with her bite.”

She takes another mouthful. She checks the room this time. Five or six other members of the Uncrowned sit scattered about the tables excluding the cook and a blood elf on her way out the door. 

“What, you too good to talk to us riff-raff now? Shacking up with royal scum must be pretty comfy to forget the shithole you came from.”

“Don’t bother Tony. She thinks she’s too good for us now, y’know? Sweet talkin’ the Greymane girl has made her priorities out of whack. You know how ladies are, all they care about is how they look and their girlfriends.”

“How about we help you with those priorities, ya? Wouldn’t it be a damn shame if something were to happen to the Lady Greymane. Plenty of big ol’ scary demons on the Broken Shore. Dangerous work that. Haven’t ya heard? Not everyone comes back. Bet if your dear old daddy was still around, he wouldn’t shed any tears over a royal.”

When Vanessa doesn’t immediately respond, aside from setting down her utensils, Tony leans in closer. 

“Being a lapdog sure does suit you, doesn’t it?”

Something snaps inside Vanessa violently, like a chord plucked wrong on a guitar. She reaches out and grabs Tony’s hand which had been tapping on the surface of the table as he mocked Tess, her father, and herself. She draws her dagger and brings it down onto Tony’s hand, piercing his flesh and pinning him to the table. Tony lets out a loud scream that sounds like pure music to Vanessa’s ears. 

Roddrick staggers to stand in his stupor, trying to pull his long sword from his scabbard, but he’s too slow. Vanessa hurdles over the table, enters a low crouch in front of him and brings up her left leg to kick his side sharply, knocking the wind out of him. She wastes no time, slamming her knee into his face. She feels the cartilage of his nose break beneath the impact. 

Vanessa turns back to Tony, who grasps helplessly at his right wrist as it lays immobilized on the table. 

“You crazy fucking bitch!”

Vanessa places her hand on the hilt of her dagger and moves it slightly causing Tony to scream again in pain.

“Who’s a lapdog?” She demands as Tony looks up at her, eyes filling with fear.

He licks his lips struggling to respond. She twists the dagger and savors the sick squelch that follows.

Tony screams again.

“Who’s the lapdog now?!” She bellows. 

“I AM!” Tony cries, sobbing uncontrollably. “I’m the lapdog!”

“If you have a problem, you come to me and we can repeat this little dance. But if you dare lay a finger on Tess,” she leans close to his face and hisses, “I’ll make it so not even vultures will want to pick at your rotting corpse.” 

She pulls her dagger from his hand and turns to walk out of the hall. The two men moaning in pain are the only sounds she hears as she stalks away. She feels several pairs of eyes on her but no one else dares make a move, let alone breathe. The adrenaline still rushes through her, her pulse pounds in her ears, and she wants to tear something apart. 

A lapdog. Was that what she had become? Had she allowed Tess to change her so drastically that even her supposed people thought her a traitor? And what of her father? Would he have thought her a disgrace to the VanCleef name if he were still alive? Would he disapprove of her choice in partner?

Once out in the dark hallways of the familiar Underbelly, Vanessa stops and slams her fist against the wall. “What the fuck am I doing?”

“Vanessa?” 

A soft voice breaks through her violent red haze, and Vanessa turns her head. Tess stands behind her, dark hair slightly matted beneath her dark cloak, suggesting she had just recently returned from Dalaran proper. 

Even with the worry in her eyes and the sweat on her brow, she looks damn beautiful. And Vanessa hates it. 

“I thought you had a meeting.” Vanessa straightens up.

“I did. We finished early.” Tess bites her lip. The tell-tale sign she has something more to say. 

When had Vanessa started paying attention to someone so closely she could pick up a nervous habit outside of reading a target? When had she begun being this familiar with Tess? When had this shifted from being a romp in the hay to being some sort of domestic, sappy mess?

“What princess? Daddy finally caught on to what you do in the dark, playing rogue?”

“I...I heard what happened in the mess hall.” 

Vanessa stiffens. Had Tess been there, watching it all unfold? There was no way she could have been there. She had counted the faces, and there’s no way she would have missed Tess in the hall. How much time had exactly passed between her count and when bloodlust clouded her thoughts?

As if sensing her question, Tess answers. “I was headed into the hall when I heard shouting. I wanted to step in, but... I’ve never seen you so angry before, even when you first arrived, you still had your wits about you.” Tess takes a deep breath. “But, I mean… Truly, Vanessa, what those men said... I-I’m so sorry darling.” She steps forward and places a tentative hand on her arm. “I never meant to cause you trouble.” 

“Trouble is my life princess. Doesn’t matter if you’re in it or not.”

Tess visibly flinches, and immediately Vanessa regrets her choice of words. 

“Fuck!” Vanessa growls and wants to shove her fist into the wall again, even if it breaks her hand. “I’m-—I didn’t mean it like that. I just…”

“I understand Vanessa.” She gives her arm a gentle squeeze. “You don’t need to say it.”

“But you deserve to hear it. I’m sorry I’m an asshole.”

Tess smiles and cups her cheek, moving closer. “Darling you have some questionable qualities, to be sure,” she winks, “but know I love every single one of them.” 

Vanessa blushes and snorts. “You keep talkin’ like that sweetheart and you’re gonna end up missing your next meeting. Archmage Khadgar might ask questions. He seems like he’d be keen on gossip.” 

“Khadgar would never!” 

Vanessa grins toothily and pulls Tess along to one of their favorite dark corners in the Underbelly. Here in these moments alone with Tess, this is where she wishes she could freeze time and remain forever. But, for a little while at least, all of her worries, all of her doubts, they fade away like grains of sand in an hourglass.


	4. Unexpected Allies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The war with the Legion has now concluded, and with its end, Tess returns to Stormwind having to face her duty.

Living among the Uncrowned, Tess enjoyed certain freedoms she had never had the luxury of knowing before the second war with the Legion. After the war is won, however, the Uncrowned returns to the shadows, an invisible hand working through other organizations and institutions once more.

As is expected of a princess, an heir-apparent of a kingdom (even if that kingdom actually exists solely through title alone), Tess returns to her old life at Stormwind’s court. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that her father even allowed her to serve alongside the likes of the Uncrowned, but as was often the case, her father’s closest advisors and friends managed to convince him. Tess needed experience in the field—the demands a king or queen could face potentially involved battle. More importantly, her mother had offered her support, citing that Genn could not keep Tess closed off forever.

Back in Stormwind, however, Genn expects his daughter to attend diplomatic meetings and mingle with other nobles—often with the hope of her finding a proper gentleman to marry.

Tess has few friends among the royalty. Her skills earned among the Uncrowned come in handy at court, just as her experiences among conniving nobles growing up helped prepare her for espionage. Valeera Sanguinar visits on rare occasions, but her business often keeps her away from Stormwind. She spends many of her days talking with Anduin, who is perhaps her only friend among the sharks and vipers.

Her father, of course, takes it as a sign that perhaps she would be open to marrying Stormwind’s king, but Tess and Anduin’s relationship has never moved in that direction. Anduin understands the melancholy she feels—there’s a certain degree of loneliness they share with one another as young royalty carrying heavy burdens and as people who will never be ready to marry someone they don’t truly love. Tess knows about Wrathion; Anduin so plainly wears his heart on his sleeve, and though there have been falling outs with the young dragon prince, he still carries a torch for him.

Tess wasn’t sure if she could ever admit certain truths aloud, but Anduin, like the brilliant priest he is, helps ease out her confession.

“I think I’m well... you know. I think I’m never going to find men quite the same as I do women,” she tells Anduin one day over tea in his library. They’re allowed a degree of privacy; after all, the council of nobles thinks they are courting one another. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to tell my father. Yet, I don’t want to marry a man, let alone someone I don’t love.”

Tess hates how the admission shreds her heart to pieces. She hates how weak it makes her feel. Shouldn’t a proper queen-to-be be wholly prepared to sacrifice, selflessly, for her kingdom?

“Do you know how terribly guilty I feel? Sometimes I think to myself ‘If only Liam was still alive, then I wouldn’t have to carry this burden.’ That makes me a horrible sister, expecting my brother to make such a sacrifice in my stead.”

“Do you love her?”

Tess looks away from Anduin, her gaze falling to her muddied reflection in the auburn tea. She closes her eyes and imagines Vanessa standing there, with her short hair framing her beautiful face. She always pictures Vanessa with a sly smirk, one that manages to make her feel weak in the knees like some kind of damsel in distress. They spent so much time together in the Uncrowned doing missions in the field, sparring together in the ring, making out, having sex, even just talking, sometimes, when the hour was late... Vanessa challenged her to be a more honest version of herself, and if Tess is to truly _be_ honest, those days with the Uncrowned were some of her happiest. Vanessa made her laugh and smile, and being with her, even doing something as innocent as holding her hand, felt so special.

“Yes, I do,” she says softly, feeling forlorn. It should be a happy confession, admitting one’s love, but all Tess can do is frown. “I told her how I felt on the Broken Shore. We fought after the Uncrowned disbanded, so to speak. She hoped I wouldn’t return to Stormwind, but that was impossible.” She blinks away tears forming in her eyes. “And I think she knew that, but she didn’t want me to go, because she knew she couldn’t follow. I... I guess we broke up.”

“Tess, I’m sorry.” Anduin covers her hand on the table and offers her a gentle squeeze. “If there was anything I possibly could have done, I would have.”

“You can’t take away my duty just as you cannot take away your own.”

Anduin sighs sadly. “I earnestly wish I could.”

“I think the hardest thing is missing her. I miss her sarcasm and the way she could make me laugh. I miss her stupid outfit, I even miss how hotheaded she could get, always so defiant, so passionate, but committed. She wanted to prove herself to the Uncrowned and to me. I don’t know if she ever really knew how much I was trying to prove myself to her.” Tess draws her hand back and folds her arms across her chest, as if to protect her heart. “Part of me wonders if she thinks about me, if she misses me too...”

“I believe, Tess, that if two people are meant to be together, then they will find one another again.” Anduin smiles, and when he speaks, he speaks with conviction. “I think you will see her again.”

Tess knows Anduin thinks about it too, if he’ll ever see Wrathion again. Wrathion is a complicated subject, but Tess has heard him share stories about the dragon prince during their time on Pandaria. Anduin’s hurt may be laced with regrets and cooled anger, but it’s also full of longing.

All they can really do is be each other’s confidant.

Tess leaves in the early evening like a proper lady. Rumors already run wild about them, and Tess doesn’t wish to add fuel to that fire. It only makes the sorrow worsen.

She doesn’t make it far from Anduin’s quarters before she is approached by Mathias Shaw, who appears from a nearby shadow. The SI:7 commander always appears serious and stern, but when Tess meets his gaze, she also finds something different in his eyes—a hint of sadness, an emotion Shaw rarely lets others see.

“My Lady, may I have a word?”

“Of course Master Shaw.”

Shaw leads her to a small office in the keep that he has claimed as his home away from home. He pulls out a chair for her at his desk and then takes the other.

“I’ll be brief,” Shaw begins as he reaches into his breast pocket to retrieve a small worn envelope. “One of my agents intercepted a letter addressed to you from none other than Vanessa VanCleef.”

Shaw hands her the letter, and to Tess’s shock, the wax seal has been broken. The contents have already been read. She knows mail sent to the keep is reviewed for the protection of the crown, but she surely didn’t think that policy applied to her.

“Subtlety, I’m afraid, has never been a VanCleef’s strong suit. The agent who intercepted it thought it was a threat to you. He is a good man and has served the crown for many years, but he remembers what the Defias did many years ago. He brought it to my attention, and the contents, as I’m sure you know, are far from threatening.”

Tess opens the letter and reads its contents as fat tears blur her vision. She wants to stab something. Repeatedly. She sees red, and the bubbling anger she feels pooling in her gut is almost too much to bear. They read her mail. They read a piece of correspondence from Vanessa. They thought it was a threat. She has never felt so humiliated and violated.

“Words mean little, but I’m sorry about—”

“Words mean much, actually, if a letter can be damning,” Tess growls. “The people of Stormwind have no idea what Vanessa did to protect them against the Legion. She bled for them. Sure, she made mistakes long ago, but I think she has atoned for them and more.”

Tess closes her eyes and takes a deep breath to try to calm down. When she reopens her eyes, her gaze is fierce.

“Vanessa helped save _your_ life, must I remind you?”

“I perfectly remember who it was that liberated me from a demon’s cell,” Shaw retorts. “And if you would have let me finish, I was about to explain that the agent has since been reprimanded.”

“ _None_ of you had the right...”

Shaw offers his handkerchief. Tess takes it with a pitiful huff and wipes at her eyes.

“I wish it were that simple.”

“And so what happens now? Will Stormwind’s Spymaster tell King Greymane that his daughter received a letter from a known fugitive of Stormwind who also happens to be...”

“No.”

Tess doesn’t expect the sudden, definitive response. She doesn’t expect the seriousness in Shaw’s tone, the sorrow in his facial expression, now far more visible than he ever really lets on. She’s only seen him this vulnerable once, and it was in Dethoroc’s cell, having been tortured. Tess had never seen Shaw look so haunted before then, and there’s something about the way Shaw looks now, so lost and so distant that reminds her of the man in the cell.

“I knew her father.”

Tess narrows her brows. “You knew Edwin VanCleef?”

“Yes.” He pauses, and it seems as though he’s thinking carefully about what he’ll say next. “Vanessa reminds me of him in many ways.”

It’s a loaded statement. Tess isn’t daft. She can hear an echo of her own feelings in the sombre tone Shaw may not even realize he has revealed.

“You... You loved him, didn’t you?”

After a moment Shaw nods. “Yes.”

The admission shocks Tess. She has become well-versed in the history of the Defias Brotherhood thanks to Vanessa. Vanessa’s knowledge about her father’s actions as the leader of the Stonemason’s guild and the Defias is sadly second hand, and in the story she tells, Shaw is one of the central villains.

“I want you to understand, because I think you need to hear it, that I know how you feel quite well.”

Tess doesn’t dare say a word. The Spymaster never says this much, so typically terse outside of mission briefings.

“I know what it’s like to feel conflicted. What she’s asking you to do—running away with her, giving up your duty—I have been in your position. Edwin asked me to join him in leaving Stormwind so long ago to be at his side for his revolution. I loved him very much, I knew the nobles of Stormwind had cheated him and his masons, but I also loved my king and my home, too. I knew Edwin needed someone to temper him, and I’ll always wonder if I should have gone with him, if he would still be alive today if I had left.”

Tess had no idea.

“Vanessa meant so much to him. He started a revolution because he wanted a better future for her. He would want her to be happy, and more importantly he would want her to be true to herself.”

Tess feels her heart sink in her chest. What exactly is Mathias trying to tell her? This entire evening has been emotional whiplash.

“What are you suggesting I do? You know it will never come to pass with her. My duty is to a throne for a kingdom that exists in name alone.”

“I’m offering you the chance I never had. You can leave tonight and I will ensure you both are never found.”

Despite the absolute heartbreak she feels, Tess can’t help but smile sadly. If only Vanessa could see that the monster in her story isn’t as much of a monster as she believes.

“You know I can’t accept that, Shaw.”

Tess stands and puts the pieces of herself back together. Her mother and father will be expecting her at supper shortly.

“Please do not tell my parents.”

“I would never. If there are any further letters sent from her, I will personally deliver them—unopened.”

“Thank you.” Tess bows her head. “I... I’m sorry for snapping at you earlier. I know why your man did it.”

Shaw leads her to his door and offers her his unspoken sympathies. She never expected him to know her grief all too well.

“If there’s anything you or her need, know that I will help.” Shaw sighs, running a hand over his jaw. “For whatever it’s worth, I believe Edwin would have been grateful for his daughter to have someone like you.”

Well, at least one of their fathers might have approved.


	5. Unmasked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At the Midsummer Fire Festival masquerade ball, Tess Greymane meets a mysterious individual on the dance floor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! We appreciate every hit, kudos, and comment to our little story!

Everything changes at the annual Midsummer Fire Festival masquerade ball hosted at Stormwind’s keep.

The castle is decorated traditionally, without excess, for Anduin’s tastes during celebrations match those of his late father’s. The entirety of Stormwind has become swept up with holiday cheer for the summer solstice and to celebrate the Legion’s defeat at long last. Even after a literal sword has been stabbed into Azeroth, the people of the Alliance seem all too eager to party and relax. Nobles mingle with common folk, with no one knowing rich from poor with the inclusion of a grand masquerade for this year’s festival. Heroes of the Alliance enjoy high praise and recognition from the king and his military leaders. The atmosphere in the city is light and cheerful; even the most morose and serious of attendees wear a rare smile.

Including, Tess Greymane discovers, her father. Genn watches on with pride as she dances with King Wrynn, who cannot hide his identity even if he tries (after all, his guards and spies must keep an eye on him). Anduin wears an intricately designed mask that represents a lion’s mane so well. Tess can empathize; even while wearing a mask designed like a black wolf, everyone knows who she is, and the thought leaves her feeling more vulnerable.

Her and Anduin partake in one of the most traditional dances of the evening, the Prance of the Fire Hawk, which follows the steps of a graceful waltz. Anduin leads, Tess follows, and as is rather typical for Anduin, he tries his best to keep her spirits up, to be an utmost genial host.

“Thank you for agreeing to dance,” Tess says with a half-hearted smile when Anduin is close enough to hear her over the music. “I know it makes father happy.”

“I do hope you’re finding some way to enjoy yourself, too.”

Tess shrugs. “l never have enjoyed formal events like these, even when I was growing up. Nothing much ado about a little dancing, I’m afraid.”

“Still...”

“I think I would rather attend the biergarten in the Dwarven District. I heard the Dark Iron brewmasters have a new ale that can actually catch fire!”

Anduin laughs. “Am I really so terrible of a dancer?”

“No! Of course not, it’s just—”

“Tess. I’m teasing.”

Tess hopes the bottom edge of her mask covers her flush of embarrassment.

“It’s just a different atmosphere.”

“I understand. I’ve been to my own fair share of rowdy taverns...” He smiles sadly. “In Pandaria, of course.”

“Maybe we should sneak away. I can disguise you—”

“No, not tonight Lady Greymane.” Anduin stops dancing and gestures behind Tess with a nod of his head. “It appears someone else would like to cut in for the next dance.”

Tess grimaces. Of course Anduin wouldn’t be able to spare her for long. She turns with no further hesitation to see a man dressed in a well-tailored black longcoat embroidered with glittering gold filigree. He wears a mask that covers the majority of his face, with blue eyes peering through thin eyeslits. The rich crimson and orange mask, like many others worn by party attendees, resembles an animal abstractly—in the case of this man’s, a red fox.

The man bows low and offers his hand, palm outstretched. “May I have this dance, Lady Greymane?”

Tess doesn’t recognize this particular noble—and she knows he _is_ a noble from his fineries. Of course, it would be seen as rather rude and unlady-like if she refused.

“Very well, lead on,” she says, carefully measuring him.

Tess takes the man’s hand and lets him sweep her into the dance, which has evolved from the prance into something less lively and far slower. He wraps an arm around her waist and leaves just enough room between them to keep matters proper in the eyes of many.

Now that they’re closer, Tess puts her skills as a rogue to the test to study him. He’s about as tall as her, though the slight heel in his boots could account for the difference. He has short black hair pulled into a small tail. He wears black leather gloves that have seen some wear, and his coat is open enough to reveal a svelte, athletic form.

“It seems everyone knows who I am, but we haven’t been acquainted...”

“Isn’t that the point of wearing a mask, my lady?”

“You certainly are a noble. I haven’t quite seen such wealth flaunted in some time.”

“What, this old thing?” He laughs, smug. “It was my late father’s.”

Tess stiffens and blushes, feeling embarrassed from her social blunder. Must conversations with nobles always make her feel so disarmed? She sighs, sadly. “I’m sorry to hear that. What family did your father hail from?”

The man twirls Tess and then pulls her closer in the followthrough, letting their bodies touch far more lewdly than allowed for a proper, dignified ball. He leans close so that Tess can hear his murmured drawl.

“A small line hailing from Westfall.” Yes, there’s a hint of an accent, buried beneath the brisk gruff tone. 

“So, your father hailed from Westfall, and he never thought to share some of his splendor?”

“He did,” the man bites back, “and he died for it.”

There’s a moment of thick tension, and then the man gestures off-handedly.

“We are rather low nobility I’m afraid, though Stormwind certainly owes us more recognition than they’ve ever given us over the years.”

Tess blinks, caught off-guard by his claims. She stops dancing as she works through her knowledge of the Alliance’s territories and their associated noble lines. She can’t recall for sure if Westfall even has heraldry to speak of—and yet, perhaps that’s why she’s never heard of any. Stormwind’s nobles would likely ostracize anyone sympathetic with the needs of Westfall.

As if hearing her internal monologue, the man picks up the pace of their dance and holds her close. It’s like he’s trying to distract her, trying to make her think of anything other than his mysterious identity. And shouldn’t she care less about it? Perhaps she should, but turning off her intuition, ignoring her gut has never been easy. Tess can feel the warmth of his body, and something about being pressed against him feels alarmingly familiar. Tess searches through her memory, thinking less and less that he is someone she has met at a previous party... The characteristics of his movements remind her less of dancing, and more of fluid combat.

Tess presses a hand to his chest to halt his movements, and the man obliges, letting out a soft tut of disappointment.

“You can tell me outright if you find my technique offensive.”

Tess narrows her brows. “It isn’t that.” She runs her fingers along the trim of the coat and slips her fingers past its edge to the vest underneath. There, tucked into his inner-breast pocket, is a damning red handkerchief.

“I-I simply had no idea Westfall had nobles...”

“Like I said, princess, Stormwind has rarely ever given us our due.”

The pieces click together, and Tess can’t believe how she missed such blatant references. No, Westfall does not have official nobles. It has one unofficial queen, however—Vanessa VanCleef.

Vanessa waits with bated breath, as if she’s savoring this moment. VanCleefs are well known for their dramatic flair. Perhaps she should take a bow.

Vanessa’s presence isn’t undesired; in fact, knowing it’s her beneath the mask lends some relief. She missed Vanessa after all, and she can’t help but wonder if Anduin invited her or maybe Shaw did, out of guilt or a rare lapse in judgment.

Tess glances over her shoulder, towards the place where her mother and father stand mingling with Khadgar, Alleria Windrunner, and Turalyon. She catches her father’s attention, and he offers her a curious raise of his brow. When she smiles back at him, nervously, he relaxes and grins back, making her heart shatter. If only he knew who his daughter was just dancing with and touching just then.

“I think I need some air, _sir_ ,” Tess says loudly enough for others to hear. She curtsies, politely, doing her best to give nothing away. “Thank you for the dance, but I really must take my leave.”

Tess doesn’t let Vanessa get in another word, untangling herself from her as the orchestra finishes its song. In a flurry of frills and lace, she hurries away from the ballroom floor, her rich blue and gold ballgown swishing at her feet. She doesn’t dare look over her shoulder as Vanessa pursues her with purpose in her stride, but Tess tries to be quicker, more agile. She can feel her gaze burning at the back of her head, matching her every movement as she weaves through the crowd of Midsummer revelers.

Tess’s mind races with questions and worries. Something about the way Vanessa held her made everything feel off-centered, like Azeroth herself had changed her planetary axis. Something about being pressed against her once more, staring into her rich blue eyes, and being blissfully led across the dance floor felt so wonderful and yet paradoxically so terrible. She needs to get out of the keep before she bursts.

Part of her feels silly, like some kind of maid in a child’s fairytale. Fleeing from the ball, with the prince— _princess_ —on her heels, eager to catch her. Part of her wants Vanessa to catch her, to sweep her properly into her arms and tell her everything will be alright in the end, that they’ll have their happily ever after.

Their tale is far more complicated.

Tess finds herself at a dead end on a moonlit terrace overlooking a glimmering lake below. There’s a small stone bench, and Tess chooses the secluded solitude of this place to shed her mask, break down, and cry woefully.

A soft thud catches Tess’s attention. She looks up to find Vanessa standing there, still donning her mask.

“Why are you here, Vanessa?”

Vanessa is no petty bandit. She was a member of the Uncrowned, and one of its finest once her edges were softened. Of course she tracked Tess with ease, albeit by taking a less conventional route.

Vanessa snorts softly and pulls off her mask at last. Beneath the painted mask’s facade, Vanessa still looks the same. Sharp features, full red lips, beautiful, mesmerizing eyes, and a scar on her left cheek.

“It took you embarrassingly long to figure out it was me, and here I thought you were one of the Uncrowned’s best.” Vanessa reaches behind her and pulls her hair loose. It’s grown a tad longer since they last saw one another. “Really couldn’t recognize me, hmm?”

“You’re wearing pants. Forgive me if I’m oblivious.”

“Hah! Only recognize me by my thighs, do you?”

“I could pick them out any day.”

“What a pity. And here I thought you would recognize me by my charms.” Vanessa folds her arms across her chest and shrugs.

“I... I honestly didn’t expect to find you here.”

“Too busy being doted on by the boy king, hm? He sure seemed disappointed having to give you up.” Vanessa scoffs, glaring off towards where the ballroom lies. “Forgot about me fast, huh?”

Tess gapes. “Not hardly! Anduin and I are _friends_. And for your information, I’ve spent all this time missing you. You should really not speak about things you know nothing about, Vanessa.”

“Then why didn’t you respond to my letter?”

“For starters, you didn’t exactly include a return address.”

“I’m not talking about a literal written response...” Vanessa deadpans. “I thought you would at least come to the rendezvous...”

“And do what, darling?” Tess frowns and tries to pull herself together despite the quiver in her voice. “You know I can’t pack up my things and leave in the dead of night.”

Tess tries to say it gently, to spare the both of them the outbreak of an argument, but this answer has never been easy for Vanessa.

“What are you staying around for? Don’t you get it? I’ve told you a million times. You’re more than just some princess meant to be married off. You’re a skilled rogue, a proper cutthroat when you put your mind to it, and you’re clever. Your mind is wasted on idiotic nobles and their petty disputes. You could be so much more than just some noble in an ivory tower looking down on people—”

“But I’m not merely just a noble, Vanessa. I’m a princess. Heir to the Gilnean throne.”

“Yeah and look at Gilneas! Go ahead and tell me you’re going to rule over a pile of plague infested land. You really expect me to believe that?”

“Someday our people are going to return to the north—”

“That’s absolutely crazy.”

“Regardless of what you think about it, Vanessa, one day we will return home and I will take over for my mother and father. Gilneans expect me to rule. That’s just how it is. I can’t change it, it’s part of who I am and will one day become.”

“You’re really going to marry some gross, ugly chump, huh?”

Now for the low blows. It always circles back to this.

“Vanessa...”

“You know it’s going to happen. I know damn well how many people have approached you. You said it yourself how you hated how your father put that pressure on you.”

“If that’s my duty—”

“And what happens if he expects you to marry, Anduin, huh? ‘For the Alliance!’ and all that shit!”

Tess hesitates, but her response must always remain the same. “Then I guess… I guess I would do it...”

Vanessa actually stops her pacing and turns to stare at Tess, looking rather wounded.

“Neither of us would be happy. We like each other well enough sure, but our relationship isn’t like ours, Vanessa, and never will be. Anduin and I would marry if it brought peace, stability, and longevity to the future of the Alliance but, _again_ , it would all be for appearance’s sake. It isn’t what either of us really want. Don’t you get it?”

“That’s insane! How would you ever be able to lead...”

“Because sometimes love of kingdom and people has to be more important than your own personal desires. When people are relying on you, you have to be selfless.”

“Relying on you for what? To fuck—if you can even call it fucking—and have babies so they can keep being ruled by noble scum?”

This argument, much like the one they had on their last day serving with the Uncrowned, has spiraled out of control.

“If the whole point of a monarchy is for the rulers to have a bunch of rugrats who can take over after you’re too old to rule, what does it matter if they’re blood or not? You need kids? There are orphans aplenty out in Westfall I look after. I can give you everything he can but blood, Tess.”

It’s touching, in a way that is so very much Vanessa in nature. Heartfelt but rough around the edges. The thought of watching Vanessa with a bunch of wide eyed children clamoring around her to play with her or to hear one of her wild stories… The image takes her breath away. 

“To some people, blood is everything,” Tess murmurs at last. “Not me, but for others… it does.”

Vanessa doesn’t say anything. She walks over to the bench and sits down beside Tess. She reaches out to clasp Tess’s hand, holding it carefully in her own.

“Shaw approached me a month ago,” Vanessa starts, her voice so low Tess has to lean closer to hear. “He said he had intercepted my letter and that he had given it to you before it passed through your parent’s hands. He said he offered you a chance to run away with me, no strings attached. We would disappear.”

Vanessa’s voice cracks on the last word. She looks away, her eyes suddenly glossy with tears.

“He said you refused. Basically you said everything you’ve said tonight to him. He told me not to give up on you, can you believe that?” Vanessa takes a deep, shaky breath. “I asked him why he gave a fuck about me and my problems. It’s one thing helping you, you’re basically under his protection, but me, I’m just two-bit trash from Westfall, and he’s the son of a bitch who killed my father.”

Suddenly Vanessa looks haunted, like a terrible shadow has fallen over her.

“He showed me an old picture—it was my father and him, side by side, and... and there I was, bundled up in a red blanket between them. They looked happy.”

Fat tears slide down Vanessa’s cheeks, and Tess reaches out to wipe them away with a gentle finger. Vanessa lets her comfort her for a moment, and then she reaches into her coat’s pocket to retrieve the picture in question—an incredibly old, crumpled photograph that has seen better days. There’s Edwin VanCleef, looking proud and dignified, with shoulder length black hair whipping in the wind, with a presence so larger than life, wearing the same exact coat that Vanessa wears now. A younger Mathias Shaw stands at his hip, donning his signature mustache, holding a young toddler and looking significantly happier. On the back, there’s a short note.

_My dearest Mathias,_

_Vanessa can’t wait to play with your mustache again. She’s saying garbled sentences now. She must-ache-you a question!_

_To another year of brotherhood, bravery, and eternal devotion. Thank you for making me a better man. Happy anniversary._

_Yours ardently,_

_Edwin VanCleef_

“Apparently they were lovers. Shaw helped raise me until my father formed the Defias and I wasn’t allowed to see him anymore. Can’t say I blame my father. Shaw seemed to have a stick up his ass back then, too.” Vanessa takes the weathered photograph back and stares down at it. “Don’t know if this makes me hate Shaw more or less.”

“He cares about you.”

Vanessa takes a deep breath and runs a hand through her hair, then wipes at her eyes. “We had a long talk. I guess he’s been keeping an eye on me for awhile, you know, for Edwin. Guilt’s a funny thing, isn’t it?” She lets out a heavy sigh. “He helped arrange me coming here tonight. Fucker even taught me how to dance properly if you can believe it, guess they teach spies etiquette at SI:7. We crafted up a whole backstory too. Vincent Vontress, landed gentry from Westfall, newer money, yadda yadda. Guess my acting was better than I thought... You bought it.”

“I was suspicious immediately when you said you were a noble from Westfall.”

“Shaw forged deeds to land to prove I own a few acres. Even made up a portfolio of business ventures for me, such as the copper industry in Westfall, if any other noble raised a fuss.”

“All this, just to see me?”

“Yeah you big asshole.” Vanessa sniffles. “So much for it though, you’d rather marry Anduin and be miserable.”

“You act as if we’re engaged.”

“Might as well be!” Vanessa looks woeful, until a dark smirk crosses her features. “Or, at least until Vincent Vontress steals away Lady Greymane in the dead of night before she can marry the king.”

Tess gapes at what Vanessa’s implying. “ _Vanessa!_ ”

“I would do it, you know. I would pretend to be someone else. I’d live that lie if it meant I could have you in the daylight, if you could really be mine.”

“I don’t want Vincent Von... Who came up with that name? It’s terrible.” Tess shakes her head and steels her gaze upon Vanessa. “I want Vanessa VanCleef. Not a substitute.”

“But you won’t run away with me, and we can’t be together as our real selves.”

“I think you would make a wonderful representative for Westfall. You could really enact change. You have the passion and heart for it. The people love you and believe in you.”

Vanessa shrugs. “But doing all that wouldn’t be good enough for your father or the Gilneans. Not as Vanessa.”

Vanessa balls her hands into fists. She stares hard at Tess, and then she raises a hand to cup Tess’s chin so delicately. She leans close, her gaze fixated upon Tess, and as her eyes fall half-lidded, she murmurs, “This is the legacy of the VanCleefs: isolation and misery.”

Down the hall, Tess hears her name being called, bouncing off the stone walls of the keep. Vanessa draws back, even as Tess leans forward, desperate for a kiss.

Instead, she never gets that last kiss. Moments before her father steps onto the balcony, Vanessa salutes goodbye and jumps off of the balcony effortlessly disappearing into the darkness.

Tess barely registers what’s happening all around her. All she can do in that one, agonizing moment before reality crushes her is to turn toward the grounds beneath the balcony to squint into the moonlit night to catch a final glimpse of Vanessa. To astute, trained eyes, it’s easy to spot Vanessa, now so far away. A blink later and the shadowed silhouette is gone.

Sometimes Tess felt like a helpless marionette, dressed finely, dangling by thin wire strings, dancing to tunes beyond her control. Now, as an impassable fissure erupts between her and Vanessa, Tess finds she can no longer keep up her charade of strength. The solemn goodbye from Vanessa feels final, and this new heartbreak feels more permanent than the last.

“Tess—”

Her father’s voice calling her name stirs Tess from her spiraling thoughts. She turns to face her father, and she watches as his expression evolves from happiness to whole shock to deep concern. Truly, she must look so pathetic, so wounded for even her father to notice at last.

“Sweetheart... What happened?”

Genn comes to her side in two quick strides, his hands coming to rest on his daughter’s shoulders to steady her.

“Tess, are you hurt?”

Tess finds she can’t speak, can’t raise her head, too frozen with grief. She doesn’t meet her father’s gaze until she must when he cups her chin and tilts her face upward.

“Tell me his name and I will see to it that he never harms you again.”

This is when she shatters. Her resolve snaps so violently, and like a dam bursting, she can no longer stop the involuntary rush of emotion. Her bottom lip quivers, her eyes flood with tears, and her nose wrinkles in shame and sorrow—because the look in her father’s blue  
eyes, it’s genuine, honest concern, something she has always yearned for, craved, and needed. She believes her father when he says he would see the man—if only he knew—who made Tess cry pay for this indiscretion. Part of her needs this comfort, like a life raft amidst storming seas.

And yet, she can’t even utter the name. To reveal such would damn her to only more sorrow. In some ways, she must carry this burden, for Liam and his memory. Stray tears slide down her cheeks, and with deft fingers, she wipes at her eyes.

“I don’t want to talk about it papa.” Tess untangles herself from her father’s arms, and instead cradles herself in her own embrace. “I’m going to retire for the evening.”

Her father doesn’t let her go far. He stops her, gently.

“Tess, wait, please.”

She takes a deep, shaky breath, turns, and tries to emulate the stoic queen she will one day be asked to become.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to her forehead and curls her hair behind her ear. “You know your mother and I only want you to be happy and safe. You mean everything to us.”

Tess swallows thickly and nods. “Of course papa.”

Sometimes she wishes she wasn’t so good at hiding her feelings. Genn smiles softly at her, oblivious of course to the depth of the pain in her eyes, to the waiver in her tone.

She walks away, her footfalls silent against the marble stone floor of the balcony. She doesn’t dare tarry for long, lest her father see her heartbreak compounded.

What Tess does not see behind her back, however, is the violent transformation Genn Greymane undergoes as the beast takes over.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed the story so far, please leave a comment! For updates on future chapters, you can check out my twitter @W0ndrousWendy and [ RangerZath!](https://twitter.com/rangerzath)


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